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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28321668">Willow Bent to Your Wind</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/chagrins/pseuds/chagrins'>chagrins</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Ben Solo Lives, Ben Solo Needs A Hug, Dreams and Nightmares, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force Dyad (Star Wars), Inappropriate Use of the Force, Jedi Ben Solo, Jedi Rey (Star Wars), Kylo Ren Needs a Hug, Kylo Ren Redemption, Kylo Ren knows how to play Chess in this one, Kylo Ren/Ben Solo in our world, POV Rey (Star Wars), Protective Kylo Ren, Redeemed Ben Solo, Rey Needs A Hug (Star Wars), Rey has no idea who she really is, Rey is under so much mental duress that she legitimately believes Ben Solo is the devil, Star Wars: Sequel Trilogy Era, Starts as an AU but it really isn't an AU, inspired by the song "willow" by Taylor Swift, our universe has no idea how to handle someone like Rey</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 17:00:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,319</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28321668</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/chagrins/pseuds/chagrins</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Rey's caught between two worlds. The vibrant world of her assumed past, the one she daydreams about with the devil and the dark eyes and the energy sword she somehow knows is called a lightsaber. And then there's the world where she's been trapped for the last two years. A place called planet Earth. Without a clear recollection of her past, however, she's trapped. Caught up in a mind that seems to be split into many different pieces. Her doctor tells her all of this is due to a mental breakdown she suffered from too much work and not enough relaxation.</p><p>But Rey feels like none of that explains how she's been feeling.</p><p>Then she sees the devil himself, Ben Solo, and everything begins to fall back into place.</p><p>He may be her salvation -- and the key to explaining everything she knows she's lost.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey &amp; Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Reylo Evermore Flash Fic</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Willow Bent to Your Wind</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello, everyone! This fic has a mind of its own. That is all. I'm having so much fun writing Rey's voice and playing "willow" by Taylor Swift on repeat as I write the story.</p><p>I really hope you enjoy it! Eventually... there is a grand reveal about what Rey's daydreaming about in the beginning. I'm not planning on this being very long, but there will probably be five or six chapters before it's concluded.</p><p>Also, I wrote this for the evermore Reylo challenge with inspiration from the song "willow" off Taylor Swift's evermore album. I'm so proud and excited to be part of this group!</p><p>Without further adieu... enjoy the fic!</p><p>-chagrins</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p></p><div class="center">
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</div><p> </p><p>Rey daydreams of a deal with the devil—of a dark-haired man who stands tall and holds out a sword, except in place of a blade, blood red energy blazes in the shape of a cross.</p><p>In the dream, the devil leads her to a circle with dancers flittering about, moving in syncopated steps round a fire. The embers flicker like little stars blinking out in the night, and Rey holds her breath, aware that she, too, will soon fade away.</p><p>She hands the devil something—her saber, is it called?—and he takes it with delight, clipping the weapon onto his belt.</p><p>A group of women in emerald cloaks lift her up, and she’s welcoming them to do what it is they do—whatever that is—and they’re chanting in a tongue unknown to her ears. The devil nods his head in agreement, holding his instrument of death at the ready.</p><p>Then, he’s guiding her by hand, a fuzzy sensation clouding her mind. The spell has set in, this she understands, and memories begin to fade from her mind, replaced with <em>other</em> memories she’s never known until this instant. Memories of another world. The world where she is heading next.</p><p>The devil brings his lips to her ear, and he whispers something that makes her want to cry, although just as quickly she loses the meaning in the murkiness of the enchantment washing over her mind. He deposits her into a tunnel in the ground, and suddenly she’s alone, trailing along a golden, glittering cord. Crawling alongside the rope and down a rabbit hole she knows will be the end of her line...</p><p>The devil’s eyes are watching from above. They’re focused, sharp, and stare directly at her with a hint of desire mixed in with excitement. Only when she’s too far down can she no longer see those dark browns, and she instantly feels a piece of her drop away, a missing phantom limb begging to be replaced.</p><p>Next, there’s a rush, and she’s somewhere new, a world without color, without vibrance, like someone lowered the saturation level. She’s dropped into the busy streets of a city she intuits as being called New York. Yellow taxis buzz by her, people staring at the girl in the strange tan tunic. Finally, someone stops to help her. To bring her somewhere.</p><p>A hospital for the mentally ill.</p><p>She spends months in her new home, medicated while being told she has an identity—a place in this crazy new reality. But the truth is, Rey no longer remembers who she is. There’s another world where she belongs, but the doctors tell her she belongs in this one, she’s simply had a break with reality.</p><p>So, Rey abides to their wishes and grows accustomed to her new world.</p><p>This place no longer has spaceships or planets or adventures that take her to faraway systems in the sky. No, this world has one planet—Earth—with people who can’t see beyond their limited human perspective.</p><p>And though she’ll never be able to explain why, her world now, the one on Earth, feels flat compared with the round world from which she imagines she came—the one with the devil and the dancers and the fire and the starships and the lightsabers. But, for her own sanity, she convinces herself this other world is a lie, a figment of her active imagination.</p><p>Yet, despite her ruthful insistence, she somehow knows she once was there, in that world with spaceships and the beautiful man who once spoke softly into her ear, even if she no longer recalls where <em>there</em> is.</p><p>Like a gentle whisper, or the echo of a lullaby, the images of the fire and the other colorful place and of the dark-haired devil himself hang in the back of her mind, translucent and fleeting. She could have sworn they happened, but they did not occur.</p><p>Her doctor insists she’s mistaken by hallucinations inflicting her mind.</p><p>Rey’s inclined to agree. Even if this life, the black and white one with a past that seems so unlived and like it’s not hers at all, is her new reality. She understands the truth now. About two years ago, she suffered from a nervous breakdown and her brain malfunctioned.</p><p>In short, she broke.</p><p>Now, she taps her tablet pen against the desk, and reality descends upon her. She’s waking up. Returning to the truth, a monochrome world far away from the colorful nightmare that haunts her.</p><p>Her large MacBook monitor sits before her on an oak desk in her study, and a pair of sad, familiar eyes gaze back at her from a drawing she partially completed before the daydream overcame her again. She’s drawn the male’s eyes thousands of times on her Wacom tablet, sold copies of his likeness on her online Etsy shop. She’s even been so daring as to include the complete vision: the broad-shouldered, tall man with the dark hair in his black tunic, wielding the sword that has red energy emitting from it in place of a blade.</p><p>Her therapist never cares about her creative habits, so long as she doesn’t let her mind run away with the fantasies.</p><p>“It seems this may have caused your breakdown,” her doctor said to her in the beginning of their visits. “Getting too caught up in your own fictitious world.”</p><p>Two years ago, Rey had woken up here on this Earth—the nightmare of the other place with the devil and the First Order and Jedi Knights so vivid it seemed real. Now, she needed to accept her reality and let go of the other past that didn’t truly exist.</p><p><em>Let the past die</em>, she hears in her mind. <em>Kill it if you have to.</em></p><p>Shaking her head in irritation, she jerks across her desk and yanks up her bottle of meds. As she’s swallowing a bitter pill back, her cell chimes with a familiar, haunting orchestration of one of her favorite indie pop songs. She’s quick to answer without checking the caller.</p><p>“Hello?” Rey asks.</p><p>“Hey, babe, you on your way?” Charlie asks, his familiar, deep baritone voice coming through the receiver. There’s a slight edge of annoyance to his tone, and Rey instantly regrets picking up.</p><p>“I’m, uh, going to be a little late,” she admits. “Sorry. I got caught up drawing again.”</p><p>Charlie clicks his tongue. “No problem. I’ll find a way to keep myself busy. Want me to give them some excuse?”</p><p>“No, I’m afraid I don’t have anything good to give,” she says. “Just tell them—”</p><p>“You lost track of time again?” he asks.</p><p>“Yes, tell them that.”</p><p>“Alright,” Charlie says. “See you soon. I love you.”</p><p>“Right. See you.”</p><p>Charlie hesitates for a moment, and she can tell he’s waiting to see if she’ll say it back this time. Part of Rey feels guilty, like she should simply coalesce and give this man what he needs to hear, the same way she gave the doctors what they needed to hear. After all, the other Rey, the one before the breakdown, had apparently been madly in love with this man named Charlie.</p><p>So, Rey’s given it a chance—given it a chance for close to two years now—and she truly is <em>trying</em>.</p><p>Even so, she can’t bring herself to say those words, and she disconnects their call without another word. There’s a numbness to the action, and she tells herself she shouldn’t feel guilty. But since the breakdown, she’s woken up in a world with people who she no longer connects to. Rey recognizes faces of friends, family, of her boyfriend—and has vivid memories of them all playing back at her like the images on a television screen. Yet it’s as if the images, like the world she resides, have morphed into greyscale, and they’ve dropped any meaning they once might’ve had.</p><p>Still, she has to do what she promised she would. She needs to <em>try</em>. Her doctor said her brain may never fully return things to the way they were before, but all Rey can do is try to move forward and work through her mental illness.</p><p>Tonight, Rey is going to keep trying.</p><p>Dropping her Wacom tablet pen onto the table, Rey rushes into her bedroom and digs through a closet full of clothes as equally foreign as they are familiar. Finding a red wrap dress and a pair of black sweetheart heels, she quickly prepares for a Christmas party she hadn’t planned on attending.</p><p><em>I have to try</em>, Rey reminds herself.</p><p>And then, a shadow of a thought finds its way into the corner of her mind’s eye.</p><p><em>I need someone to show me my place in all this. </em>Her own words, so foreign, so distant, yet they appear like a long-lost friend.</p><p>She hesitates with her hand on the hem of her dress, then brushes off the intrusion and gets back to readying herself for the party.</p><p> </p><p>~*~</p><p> </p><p>“We’re so glad you could make it!” Vanessa squeals.</p><p>Her sister stands at the doorway of a two-story suburban house, the one covered with more Christmas lights than any other on the block. Vanessa’s wearing a velvety green dress with her hair pulled into a tight bun. Rey notices that she looks more pregnant than the last time she saw her a couple of weeks ago, and there’s a giddiness that consumes her seeing a woman carrying a child, even if she sadly realizes it has nothing to do with this person being her sister.</p><p> Rey forces a smile and attempts to act like she remembers the connection she shares with her sister. But, once again, she feels nothing more than a random image that seems as though it’s been forced into her brain.</p><p>Vanessa ushers Rey into the house. Apple spice and cookie dough assaults Rey’s senses, and she breathes into the warmth of the bright home. There’s a fancy chandelier in the entranceway, with a banister that wraps up to the second level in a grand, circular fashion. The high ceiling helps make the already large home seem even more massive.</p><p>Rey slips off her heavy winter coat, and her sister takes it without question, hanging it up in the coat closet by the front door. All at once, Rey recalls being here for the holiday party last year, when the disturbance from being in the mental hospital still felt so raw. Her memories inform her that, before the year of her great breakdown, her parents hosted this annual holiday party in their home every year, and that they always held it one week before Christmas Day.</p><p>Somehow, the Rey she’d been before enjoyed these parties. But Rey can’t see how when they’re full of such stuffy, snobby guests. </p><p>Like a rabbit appearing in the middle of a magic trick, Charlie shows up almost out of nowhere. With a smile crossing his face, he wraps her in a tight hug as if he never wishes to let her go. Rey takes a deep, calming breath and forces herself to enjoy this attention. A part of her once wanted this, she reasons, so she needs to want it now.</p><p>“Hello, Charlie,” she says.</p><p>Charlie pecks her on the cheek. “Have I told you again how sexy your English accent sounds? I’m still not used to it.”</p><p>Apparently, the Rey before the mental breakdown spoke with a very thick New York accent. Or so everyone keeps telling her.</p><p>For just a moment, she tries to truly believe that this has always been her life. That she belongs here, with these people, and with this man. For just the briefest of moments, she genuinely buys into it, and relief floods her body. But she can’t hold onto it for long, and the feeling flies away, returning her to the constant state of misery she’s been accustomed to for the last two years.</p><p>“Come on, baby,” Charlie says, tugging on her hand. “Your family’s so excited to see you. Especially your brother. He hasn’t seen you since…” His words fall away. The truth is, Rey has never seen her brother. Not since before the breakdown.</p><p>“Umm,” Charlie continues. “Your family is just happy you’re here. C’mon, let’s go!”</p><p><em>Family</em>. That word sounds so strange to her. Somehow, she recognizes this wasn’t something she understood even in the <em>other</em> world.</p><p><em>Dear child. I see your eyes</em>, an older female voice echoes in her head. <em>Whomever you’re waiting for on Jakku, they’re never coming back. But there’s someone who still could. With your help. </em></p><p>Jakku…</p><p>Rey blinks away the intrusive thoughts as she follows Charlie into the other room. Not to her surprise, there are tons of strangers in her midst. Friends of the family who she’s never met. The grand dining room is packed with at least fifty people, chattering ringing in her ears. All at once, Rey wishes to hide and to have never existed in the first place.</p><p>On the way past a server carrying a tray of alcohol, she sneaks a glass of champagne. Quickly, while her boyfriend’s attention remains ahead, she downs the contents and rests the empty glass against an available space on a shelf they pass.</p><p>At the very back of the room, the rest of her family—mother, father, and brother—are spread out, talking amidst various clusters of people. Her mother and father, the true matriarch and patriarch, guide a conversation at the one end of the stately room, surrounded by a good ten people.</p><p>Charlie brings her to the other side where Rey catches her brother standing with another separate group, entranced by a tall male with dark hair who seems to be giving some sort of speech. He talks with his hands. Everyone’s watching him. A few other tall individuals surround the stranger, so she can’t see his facial features, but his melodic voice entrances her and sounds more familiar than anyone else has felt since waking up from her breakdown.</p><p>The tightness in Rey’s body seems to loosen, and for once she moves forward with interest.</p><p>“The key to a good Chess game is making the best possible move,” she hears the stranger say as Charlie and her reach the edge of the crowd. Charlie pushes them in a little, clearly trying to get Rey to her brother, Rick. But Rey’s focus lands elsewhere, and her hand drops away from Charlie. Like a magnetic pull, she steps into the crowd, swallowed by the group. Inside the circle, she stares ahead, bewildered by the man holding everyone’s attention.</p><p>The devil himself… with his brown eyes and dark hair slicked back. He wears a slim, black suit, ironed to perfection. A glint shines in his eyes, and he’s talking directly to Rick.</p><p>“In the great game, you should have a plan,” the stranger continues. “Control the center. Keep your king safe. But here are the two most important rules of all…”</p><p>Rey feels everyone hold a collective breath, waiting for his answer as if it’s the answer to life itself.</p><p>“Know what the pieces are worth,” the stranger says, “and know when to trade them.”</p><p>When he finishes his last sentence, his eyes track around the crowd. He stops when he spots her, and she feels the weight of his presence the moment his eyes meet hers. There’s hurt inflicted in his expression, a darkness she senses he carries around with him. <em>This</em> is the one, the very same man she’s always dreamed about.</p><p>She’s made a deal with the devil, and she reckons he’s here to collect his end of the bargain. Whatever that might be.</p><p>He watches her like she’s always imagined he might, with lips that brood and seem ready to quiver, and eyes with the sadness of a child and the anger of an adult ready to kill someone. He’s killed before, she quickly intuits. She knows he has.</p><p>Charlie wraps a protective arm around Rey’s waist, and the stranger seems to flinch.</p><p>“Hey, everyone,” Charlie says. “This is Rick’s sister, Rey.”</p><p>As Charlie drops her name, Rey watches her brother’s ears perk. The shorter young adult male who she should know jerks his neck around a taller individual blocking his view.</p><p>Rick’s eyes light up, and he nearly breathes her name. “Rey?”</p><p>He should be her little brother, and he should be the one with whom she shares her deepest and darkest secrets. Her memories tell her as such. But her heart begs her to listen when it reminds her she doesn’t truly know this person. Her heart begs her to believe that she doesn’t really know any of these people in this room.</p><p>Except, perhaps, the man analyzing the game of Chess.</p><p>“Hello, uh, Rick,” Rey says with a tiny voice.</p><p>Like a balloon with all its helium rushing out, her brother’s face drops from excitement to concern in the split of an instant. He knows. Of course, he knows. He knows that something isn’t right. That <em>she</em> isn’t right.</p><p>But does he understand that she’s trapped in a world where she doesn’t truly belong? In a mind that’s been broken into different pieces, and nothing about her feels whole any longer. No—no one could understand this.</p><p>The devil himself clears his throat. “Oh, so, you’re Rey. The girl I’ve heard so much about.”</p><p>Something about his choice of phrasing sets off a memory, but she isn’t sure what. Vague images dance in her mind, and she sees a forest. A… a… <em>lightsaber</em>. She meets his eyes once more, and the man smirks, holding out his hand as the echo of her memory fades into the background.</p><p>“Ben,” he says. “Ben Solo.”</p><p>He grips her hand, and she feels the name his given her. Something is so familiar about it, yet she can’t place him. Not really.</p><p>“Ben Solo,” she repeats back to him, and his name feels comfortable on her lips, like she’s said it hundreds of times in the past.</p><p>The man known as Ben smiles softly. He’s still holding her hand. Why is he still holding her hand? In front of the entire group, they remain this way, and it seems as though everyone else disappears. Like an effect in a film, the others grow distant, blurred. All she sees is this Ben Solo, and he studies her as if he expects something more.</p><p><em>Who are you, really?</em> Rey wonders silently.</p><p>Ben nods his head, as if he’s heard her.</p><p><em>You know who I am, </em>she hears him say inside the recess of her mind.</p><p>“What?” she says aloud, a muted gasp escaping her throat. Her world begins to spin with the devil himself smiling in smug satisfaction. She takes a step back, growing lightheaded, and her knees buckle. Ben and Charlie both lunge for her, but she tumbles to the hard floor and smashes her head against the wood. The pain weighs so heavily on her head that everything begins to numb.</p><p>The last thing she remembers is the low murmurs of the crowd. All the eyes staring down at her like they feel pity for her. Like she’s an anomaly, and they need to take care of the disabled girl in their midst. The young woman who has lost her mind.</p><p>But then she sees the devil.</p><p>He’s watching her.</p><p>He’s the only one who seems to see right through her and into all the lies she tells herself about this world and the world from where she came before. He isn’t searching her with pity in his eyes. No, he’s taking her in as if he means to study a worthy opponent.</p><p>Everything slowly fades to black, and the last thing she catches is the familiar glint of Ben Solo’s eyes as he’s assessing her in grave detail from above.</p><p><em>I’ll see you again soon</em>, she thinks she hears him say. <em>We </em>will<em> finish what we started.</em></p>
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